See Me (14 page)

“I can imagine.”

“But you don’t have any advice for me, right? Since you don’t give advice?”

“No.”

“You do realize that having a conversation with you takes some getting used to, right? Serena, for instance, always has loads of advice.”

“Is it helpful?”

“Not really.”

His expression said she’d just proved his point. “What happened with your boyfriend?”

“There’s not much to say. We’d been going out for a couple of years and it felt to me like we were moving toward something more serious.”

“Marriage?”

She nodded. “I thought so. But then, he decided that I wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted someone else.”

“That had to be rough.”

“At the time, it was devastating,” she agreed.

“And no boyfriends since then?”

“Not really. I’ve dated a few guys, but nothing ever really materialized.” She paused, remembering. “I’d go dancing with my girlfriends at this salsa club in Charlotte, but most of the guys I ended up meeting wanted only one thing. To me, sleeping with someone is an outgrowth of a commitment, and a lot of guys just want a fling or whatever.”

“That’s their problem.”

“I know. But…” She tried to think of the best way to phrase it. “It’s hard sometimes. Maybe it’s because my parents are so happy and make it seem so easy, but I’ve always assumed that I’d be able to find the perfect guy without having to settle. And growing up, I had all these plans… I just knew that by now, at my age, I’d be married and we’d live in a restored Victorian and we’d be talking about kids. But those things seem further away now than they did when I was a little girl. They seem further away than they did even a couple of years ago.”

When he didn’t respond, she shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this.”

“I’m interested.”

“Sure you are,” she said, dismissing his comment. “It sounds boring, even to me.”

“It’s not boring,” he countered. “It’s your story and I like hearing it.” He let that sit before abruptly changing the subject. “Salsa dancing, huh?”

“That’s what you heard? In everything I said?” When he shrugged, she went on, wondering why it seemed so easy to talk to him. “I used to go almost every weekend.”

“But you don’t go anymore?”

“Not since I’ve moved back. They don’t have any clubs here. Not officially, anyway. Serena tried to drag me to this one place and I thought about it, but I begged off at the last minute.”

“It sounds like it might have been fun.”

“Maybe. But it’s not even a real club. It’s in this abandoned warehouse, and I’m pretty sure the whole setup is illegal.”

“Sometimes those are the best places to go.”

“I assume you’re speaking from experience?”

“Yes.”

She smiled. “Do you know anything about salsa dancing?”

“Is it like the tango?”

“Not really. The tango is kind of like ballroom dancing, where you move around the room. Salsa dancing is more of a party dance with lots of spinning and changing hands, and you stay in one place on the floor. It’s a great way to spend a couple of hours with friends, especially if your partner is good. It was the only time I felt like I could really let go and be myself.”

“Aren’t you being yourself right now?”

“Of course,” she answered. “But this is definitely the quieter version of me, the more typical one.” She raised the oar overhead to stretch for a moment, then dipped the tip into the water again. “I have a question,” she said. “And I’ve been wondering about it since you mentioned it.” When he turned toward her, she went on. “Why do you want to teach the third grade? I’d think that most guys would want to teach at the high school level.”

He pulled his oar through the water.

“Because at that age, kids are old enough to understand most everything an adult tells them, but still young enough to believe that adults tell the truth. It’s also the year when behavior problems begin to really manifest. Taken together with all the testing the state requires, third grade is just a critical year.”

They glided on water almost as still as glass. “And?” she asked.

“And what?”

“You said the same thing to me last night. When you thought I wasn’t telling you the whole story. So I’ll ask you again – what’s the real reason you want to teach the third grade?”

“Because it was my last good year in school,” he said. “Until a couple of years ago, in fact, it was my last good year, period. And it was all because of Mr. Morris. He was a retired army officer who got into teaching later in life, and he knew exactly what I needed. Not the mindless discipline I had later in military school, but a specific plan just for me. He didn’t take any crap in class from the very beginning, and as soon as I began acting up, he told me that I’d have to stay after school. I thought I’d just sit in the classroom with a book or he’d have me clean up or whatever, but instead he had me run laps around the lower school and do push-ups every time I passed him. And the whole time, he kept telling me that I was doing great, that I was really fast or strong or whatever, so it didn’t feel like punishment. He did the same thing at recess the next day, and then he asked if I could start showing up early every day because it was clear that I had a gift for running. That I was stronger than the other kids.
Better
than the other kids. Looking back, I know he was doing it because of my ADHD and other emotional crap, and that all he really wanted to do was burn off my excess energy so that I could sit still in class.”

His voice grew softer as he went on. “But back then, it was the first time I could ever remember being praised, and after that, all I wanted to do was make him even more proud of me. I buckled down and school started to get easier for me. I caught up in reading and math, and I was better behaved at home, too. Fast forward a year to Mrs. Crandall’s class, and all that went right out the window. She was mean and angry and she hated boys, and I went back to being the troubled kid I used to be. After that, my parents shipped me off, and you already know the rest of that story.”

He let out a long breath before facing her. “That’s why I want to teach the third grade. Because maybe, just maybe, I’ll come across a kid like me and I’ll know exactly what to do. And in the long run, I know how much that single year might mean to that kid. Because without Mr. Morris so long ago, I would never have considered going back to college now and becoming a teacher.”

While Colin spoke, Maria kept her gaze fixed on him. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised, considering everything else you’ve told me,” she said. “But I am.”

“Because?”

“It’s inspiring. Why you want to become a teacher, I mean. I don’t have any stories like that. Half the time, I’m not even sure why I became a lawyer in the first place. It just kind of happened.”

“How so?”

“When I first got to college, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. I thought about business school or getting a master’s and I even debated whether or not to go to medical school. It was hard enough just to pick a major, and even in my junior year, I still had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. My roommate, on the other hand, was set on going to law school, and I sort of convinced myself that the idea was a lot more glamorous than it really is. The next thing I knew, I was applying to law school, and three years later, I had a job lined up with the DA and was studying for the bar. And now, here I am. Don’t get me wrong – I’m good at what I do, but sometimes it’s hard for me to imagine that I’ll be doing it the rest of my life.”

“Who says you have to?”

“I can’t just throw my education away. Or the past four years. What would I do?”

He scratched at his jaw. “I think,” he finally said, “you can do whatever you want. In the end, we all live the life we choose for ourselves.”

“What do your parents think about you being back in school?”

“I think they’re still wondering whether I’ve really changed, or whether I’ll revert to being the guy I used to be.”

She smiled, liking that he said what he thought without worrying what she might think.

“I don’t know why, but it’s hard for me to imagine the other Colin, the one you used to be.”

“You wouldn’t have liked him much.”

“Probably not,” she said. “And he probably wouldn’t have stopped to change my tire, either.”

“Definitely not,” he agreed.

“What else should I know about the new Colin?” she asked, and her question gradually gave way to a meandering conversation about growing up in Raleigh and a bit more about his friendship with Evan and Lily. He told her about his parents and his older sisters, and what it had been like to grow up under the care of various nannies. He talked about the early fights he’d been in, the schools he’d attended, and offered more details about the years following high school, although he admitted that they’d largely blurred together. He talked about MMA, and when pressed, he recounted a few of his fights, including the most recent one with the marine, which had left him bruised and bloody. While many of the stories he told her underscored the rough edges of his past, they were of a piece with what she already knew.

As they talked, the tide began to roll in, propelling them forward side by side. The sun gradually bowed toward the horizon, the water beginning to gleam like old pennies. The thin cloud cover softened the glare and began to change colors – pinks and oranges and magentas.

“Would you like to check out the beach?” she finally asked. He nodded, and as they began paddling toward shore, Maria spotted the sleek, dark backs of three porpoises slowly approaching. They arced through the water, and when she pointed them out, Colin broke into a boyish grin. In unspoken agreement, they stopped paddling, allowing their boards to drift. To her surprise, the porpoises altered their course, gliding directly toward them. On instinct, Maria reached for the camera and began to snap photos, adjusting the framing with every shot. By some miracle, she captured an image of all three of the porpoises breaching the surface before they paraded past in single file, close enough to touch, their blowholes spraying water. Maria turned, watching them retreat toward the inlet and the ocean beyond, wondering what had brought them to this place in this exact moment.

When they finally vanished from sight, she noticed that Colin had been staring at her. He smiled, and on instinct, she raised the camera and snapped his picture, suddenly recalling the flash of vulnerability he’d shown a few minutes earlier. Despite the outward confidence he exuded, she understood that like her, Colin simply wanted to be accepted; in his own way, he was just as lonely as she was. The realization made her ache, and it suddenly felt like they were the only two people in the world. In this silent, intimate moment, she knew that she wanted to spend more afternoons with him just like this one, an ordinary afternoon that somehow felt magical.

O
n the beach, Colin sat on a towel with Maria beside him, trying to ignore the way she looked in the black bikini that had been hidden beneath her clothing. Yesterday he’d viewed her as an intriguing stranger; while paddleboarding today, he’d come to view her as a friend; but now, he wasn’t sure what might come next. All he really knew was that the black bikini was making it difficult to keep his thoughts straight. Maria, he decided, was beyond pretty, planted firmly in the stunning range, and although Colin sensed that something had changed between them over the course of the day, he couldn’t quite put a name to it.

He didn’t have much experience with women like Maria. Instead of college degrees and close-knit families, the women he’d dated tended to have numerous piercings and tattoos, angry façades¸ and serious daddy issues. They expected to be treated poorly, and he’d generally obliged. The mutual lack of expectation made for something resembling comfort when they hung out together. Damaged comfort for sure, but misery loves company. Only a couple of them had lasted as long as three months, but unlike Evan, having one special person in his life had never held much interest for Colin. He wasn’t wired that way. He liked the freedom that came with being single, without having to answer to someone else. It was hard enough to keep his own life straight, let alone trying to meet someone else’s expectations.

Or at least that was what he’d always believed, but now, as he surreptitiously admired Maria, he wondered whether he’d simply been making excuses. Whether maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t cared about being in a relationship because he’d never given it an honest shot, or because he hadn’t met the right person. He knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he wanted to spend more time with her. Why she was still single was beyond him. He reminded himself that there wasn’t a chance she’d be interested in a guy like him.

And yet…

In the hospital, he’d spent a lot of time in group therapy, where trying to figure out what made others tick was part and parcel of the exercise itself. Understanding others meant understanding yourself – and vice versa – and he’d long ago become attuned to body language and vocal cues people displayed as they shared their fears and flaws and regrets. And while he couldn’t precisely read Maria, he suspected she was just as confused about what was happening as he was. Which made sense. Although he was doing okay now, she had to realize that the old Colin would always be part of him. That would be a concern for anyone; hell, he was concerned about it, too. While his explosive anger was dormant at the present time, it was like a hibernating bear, and he knew he had to structure his life a certain way to keep spring from arriving so the bear would stay asleep. Train hard to keep his anger in check; indulge in the occasional MMA match to purge his aggression. Study hard and work long hours to fill his schedule and keep him from visiting the wrong places. Stay away from drugs and limit alcohol. Spend time with Evan and Lily, who not only were model citizens, but were always there to lend support and keep him out of harm’s way.

There wasn’t room in his life for Maria. There wasn’t time. He didn’t have the energy.

And yet…

They were alone together on an isolated stretch of sand, and he thought again that she was sexy as hell. Logically, Maria should have run for the hills by now, but she seemed to be taking his past in stride, and for the life of him, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He watched as she leaned back in the glow of the late-afternoon sun, propping herself on her elbows. He thought again that she was as naturally beautiful as anyone he’d ever seen, and in an effort to distract himself, he rolled to the side and reached behind her, pulling the cooler toward him. He popped off the lid and retrieved two bottles of water, then handed one of them to her.

“Banana or orange?” he asked.

“Banana,” she said. She sat up, languid and graceful. “Oranges get my hands all sticky.”

He handed it over and pulled out a couple of baggies of mixed nuts.

“Do you want some of these, too?”

“Sure,” she said. “Why not?”

She took the baggie and popped a couple of almonds into her mouth. “This is just what I needed,” she said with a wink. “I can already feel my cholesterol dropping and my muscles getting bigger.”

He smiled, beginning to peel his orange. She did the same with her banana and took a bite before leaning back again. “I never do this,” she said. “Come to the beach when I’m here, I mean. I’ve paddled past it, but I’ve never actually come out here just to relax.”

“Why not?”

“In the summer, there are always too many people around. I’d feel weird coming out here alone.”

“Why? It wouldn’t bother me.”

“I have no doubt you’d do it. For you, it’s no big deal. But it’s different for women. Coming out here, all alone – some guys might think it’s an invitation. And what if some crazy man sat next to me and started hitting on me? Like someone who’d done drugs and was on probation and had a history of going to bars so he could fight strangers and stomp on people’s heads… Oh, wait!” She feigned horror as she suddenly turned toward him.

He laughed. “What if he said he’d changed?”

“At first, I probably wouldn’t believe him.”

“What if he was charming?”

“He’d have to be really, really charming, but even then, I’d probably rather be alone.”

“Even if he changed your tire in the middle of a storm?”

“I’d definitely be grateful for the way he helped me out, but I don’t know if it would make much difference. Even crazy people can do something nice once in a while.”

“That’s probably a wise decision. A guy like that might be dangerous and definitely not someone you’d want to be alone with.”

“Obviously,” she said. “Of course, there’s always the possibility that he really
had
changed and that he happened to be a nice guy, which means I’d be out of luck. Since I never even gave him a chance, I mean.”

“I can understand how that might be a problem.”

“Anyway, that’s why I don’t come out to the beach alone. It just eliminates the whole issue.”

“Makes sense. Still, I have to admit that I’m not quite sure how I feel about what you just said.”

“Good,” she answered, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. “Then we’re even. I haven’t known how to feel about a lot of what you’ve told me.”

Though he wasn’t sure if she was flirting, he liked how natural it felt when she touched him. “How about we change the subject to safer ground?”

“Like what?”

“Tell me about your family. You said you have a lot of relatives in town?”

“My grandparents on both sides still live in Mexico, but three aunts and four uncles live in Wilmington, along with over twenty cousins. And we throw some rocking family parties.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It is. A lot of them either work or used to work at La Cocina de la Familia, so the restaurant was like our second home. Growing up, I probably spent more time there than at the house.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “When I was little, my parents had this play area set up in the back so my mom could watch me, and when I started school, I’d do my homework in the office. After Serena was born, I’d watch Serena in the play area until my mom’s shift ended, and then when Serena was older, I started working there, too. But the strange thing is, I never remember feeling like I came in second to the restaurant, or even like it dominated my life. Not only because my whole family was there, but because my parents were always popping in to check on me and make sure I was okay. And when we were at home, it didn’t feel much different. We always had relatives over. A lot of them lived with us until they saved enough money to get their own place. For a kid, there’s nothing better. There was always something going on; people talking or playing or cooking or listening to music. It was always loud, but it was good energy. Happy energy.”

He tried to match her account with the woman sitting beside him, finding it surprisingly easy.

“How old were you when you started working at the restaurant?”

“Fourteen,” she said. “I worked there after school and every summer and Christmas break until I graduated from law school. My parents thought it would be good for me to earn my own spending money.”

“You sound proud of them.”

“Wouldn’t you be? Though I must admit that I’m not quite sure what my parents would think if they knew I was with you today.”

“I have a pretty good idea of what they might think.”

She laughed, lighthearted and unrestrained.

“You want to try tossing the Frisbee around?”

“I’ll try. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She hadn’t been lying. She wasn’t very good; nearly all of her tosses veered off course, some hitting the sand and others getting caught in the breeze. Colin zigzagged gamely, trying to rescue the Frisbee before it hit the ground while hearing her call out, “I’m sorry!” Whenever she succeeded in making an accurate throw or catching the Frisbee, she reveled with almost childlike glee.

Through it all, she kept up a steady chatter. She told him about her trips to Mexico to visit her grandparents and described the tiny cinder-block houses where both sets had lived their entire lives. She touched on her high school years, along with a few of her college and law school experiences, and shared a few stories about working at the DA’s office. He was perplexed at how her first boyfriend could have let her go and why no one else had come along since. Could anyone be so blind? He didn’t know and didn’t care: All he really knew for sure was that he was unbelievably lucky that she’d wandered out to the pier.

Abandoning the Frisbee, he’d grabbed the Hacky Sack and heard her laugh aloud. “Not a chance,” she said before collapsing on her towel. Colin sat beside her, feeling the weariness of an active day in the sun and noticing that Maria’s skin had taken on a buttery glow. They finished the rest of their water, sipping slowly as they watched the waves.

“I think I’d like to watch you fight,” she said, turning toward him.

“Okay,” he said.

“When’s the next one?”

“Not for a few weeks. It’s at the House of Blues in North Myrtle Beach.”

“Who are you fighting?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“How can you not know who you’re fighting?”

He ran his fingers through the sand. “In amateur events, the ticket isn’t always finished until the day before. It all depends on who wants to fight, who’s ready to fight, who’s available to fight. And, of course, who actually signs up to fight.”

“Does that make you nervous? Not knowing?”

“Not really.”

“What if he’s like… a giant or something?”

“There are weight classes, so that’s not a concern. My main worry is if the guy panics and breaks the rules. Some of the guys who show up in these amateur events don’t have a lot of experience in the cage, and it’s easy to lose control. That’s what happened when my last opponent head-butted me. They had to stop the fight so I could get the bleeding under control, but the ref didn’t catch it. My coach was going nuts.”

“And you actually
enjoy
that?”

“It comes with the territory,” he said. “The good news is that I got the guy in a guillotine choke hold in the next round and he had to tap out. And I did enjoy that part.”

“You do realize that’s not normal, right?”

“Okay.”

“And just so we’re clear, I don’t care whether you win or lose, but I don’t want you to get all bloodied and bruised.”

“I’ll do my best.”

She furrowed her brow. “Wait – the House of Blues? Isn’t that a restaurant?”

“Among other things. But it has enough room. Amateur events don’t usually draw much of a crowd.”

“I’m shocked! Who wouldn’t want to watch men trying to beat the hell out of each other? What is wrong with society these days?”

He grinned. She wrapped her arms around her knees as she’d done the night before, but this time, he could feel her shoulder brushing against his own. “How did the photos turn out?” he asked. “The ones of the porpoises?”

Maria reached for her camera and clicked to the display before handing it to him. “I think this one’s the best,” she said. “But there are a few more. Just use the arrow button there to go through them.”

He stared at the image of the three porpoises. “It’s incredible,” he said. “It’s almost like they were posing.”

“Sometimes I get lucky. The light was just right.” She leaned toward him, her arm grazing his. “There are others that I’ve taken in the last month that I liked, too.”

He used the back arrow, scanning a long series of photos: pelicans and ospreys, a close-up of a butterfly, a mullet caught in midjump. When she leaned further into him to follow along, he caught the scent of wildflowers in the heat.

At the end of the series, she finally pulled back. “You should frame some of these,” he said, handing her the camera.

“I do,” she said. “But just the better ones.”

“Better than these?”

“You’d be the one to judge,” she said. “Of course, you’d have to come over first, since they’re hanging on my walls.”